Scene Eight - The Lie
The second sign of trouble was the unlocked door.
Alarm bells go off in Kurama's head as his grip tightens on the knob, letting the front door of her apartment open in a silent motion. Darkness. Kagome's apartment is not a place he is all that familiar with, but signs of distress are not immediately noticeable. There are, however, a few misplaced items; a jacket unceremoniously dropped on the floor instead of on the coat rack with its brethren, and shoes and socks similarly discarded in a haphazard trail leading to another door inside, slightly ajar.
The first sign of trouble had been Kagome's unspoken absence after her lecture. She never misses class or their walks home. At least, not without telling him.
Kurama follows the trail of tossed items, pushing the bedroom door open with a light whisper of wood across carpet. That is where he finds her. The room has little light save for some beams of harsh daylight desperately trying to peak through shut blinds. Kagome is in a state of partial undress, strewn across her bed, her legs tangled in her sheets. Nothing but a light white blouse and panties adorn her body.
The apology dies on his lips as he realizes she is asleep. It must have been an unrestful slumber; he can see her brow is furrowed and her breathing is labored. As he moves closer, he can already feel the heat radiating off her before he even lays a hand upon her forehead. Her temperature is alarmingly warm.
Leaving her for just a moment, he retrieves water from the kitchen. She sips the cool liquid when he presses the glass to her lips. Her eyes flutter open as he sits down on the edge of her bed, causing her to shift toward him as the mattress moves under his weight.
"Kur…ama…?"
Her voice is hoarse and so he offers her more water that she greedily accepts. Her attempt to sit up fails, her arms shaking with the effort as she is only able to half slump up against the headboard. Before he realizes it, he finds that his hand has flitted back up to her forehead again. His fingertips brush down the side of her temple and down further until he finds that he is cupping her heated cheek.
A soft frown tugs his mouth downward. A frown at her current abysmal state and a frown for himself, his current tenderness throwing himself off guard. But why should it? She had become a treasured companion of his after all this time. Not only a companion for him, but for their whole group, Kurama finds himself internally correcting, in need of convincing no one but himself.
Luckily she misses the expression. Her eyes can barely stay open.
"I don't feel so good," she mumbles.
"You are quite feverish, Kagome."
She makes what could be a small hum of agreement. The slightest bob of her head turns into a lull as her head slumps into his hand still pressed against her cheek and her eyes fully close again. Trepidation that strikes like lightning to his heart is quickly quelled, his own emotion again surprising him.
A shiver races through her body and she starts to curl into herself. He smooths out the twisted sheet at her feet and grabs the blanket discarded on the floor to cover her, but it is not enough. She shudders still as the chills wrack her body.
His hesitation does not last long and he knows what he needs to do. Humans were such frail creatures, prone to sickness. It certainly is not about what he wants, but what Kagome's weak body needs from him in that moment. Certainly.
Lifting the covers, he slides into the bed beside her. He rests his back against the headboard as he reaches for her to draw her closer to him. He pulls her into his lap, her back up against his chest and his arms fold around her. In response, she presses herself more firmly against his warm body. Demons' temperatures often ran warmer than the average human, a heat she so desperately craved even as her body felt warmer than his own.
Her shudders became less pronounced, although he could feel her quiver against him still. Whether that is because of the heat he provided or from their closeness, he is not sure. She seems far from lucid in her fevered state, however.
Time passes as he holds her. With every tremor he feels himself hold her that much tighter as if his strength could will her sickness away. He can tell as she falls in and out of sleep as he hears her breath become slow and steady. He must have drifted off at some point as well for he is jostled into a more aware state when he feels Kagome move more deliberately against him.
She shifts in his grasp and he lets her. She stops as she turns around facing him, her hands pressing against his chest as his arms loosely hold her still. Her eyes are downcast, partially hidden by bangs, and fixating on her own hands.
"Lie to me."
It is barely a murmur. If he did not know better, he would say his heart skips a beat at the request. Something in him tells her to pull her closer, to comfort her and pretend this moment did not exist. Instead, he closes his emerald eyes, takes one long, deep breath, and opens them again to reveal an amber glow.
He feels the change wash over him. Kagome's eyes remain on her hands, now with his long silver strands barely brushing against her fingertips as his hair grows longer. She twists a strand around one of her fingers. Her body begins to tremble again, but this time it has nothing to do with her fever.
She looks up into his golden eyes, tears pooling in her own.
"I'm sorry I couldn't save you," she all but whispers.
Over time, she has told him bits and pieces of her past. Each memory guarded, coveted, a treasured possession. Her secret of her time in the past, the friends she made there, and their triumph over evil… but at a cost.
A strange feeling sends a pang through his chest that he cannot quite put his finger on. Perhaps sympathy for her suffering, or more unfamiliar still, the urge to protect the young woman in his arms.
He meets her gaze, but her eyes appear unfocused. Her breath is short and ragged. As the tears start to slide down her cheeks, she leans forward. Her lips are a whisper across his and he finds himself responding to the gentle touch. The urge to comfort her grows stronger within him, especially as the taste of salt reaches his mouth.
She pulls back the slightest bit and slumps forward again with her head buried into the crook of his neck. He holds her closer as he feels her shoulders shake and she lets her emotions run away from her. He allows his demon form to dissipate. If Kagome notices, she gives no sign.
"Goodbye," she murmurs to not but a memory.
Time passes. The light peaking in from outside grows dims and leaves entirely as Kurama continues to hold her. Even knowing of her power, he thought her a frail being when they had first met. She has since proven herself to be powerful, brave, and determined. Then why, he wonders, did the urge to protect her still linger?
And why, as her fever subsides and she falls into a deep slumber, did he find it so hard to leave her side?